


Larathia's FF8 Drabble Collection

by Larathia



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Community: ffviii_100, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2017-12-10 12:50:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 2,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/786227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larathia/pseuds/Larathia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because I wanted to put them somewhere I might be able to find them again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Allergic Reactions

Squall woke to the scent of flowers and spring breezes, and for a little while just stopped there. Breathing living things and the promise of life was a good place to pause. Dreamlike, in fact, as if it were happening to someone else, which was a shame.

His head was propped on something. Rinoa's lap, it seemed, as he opened his eyes. She smiled down at him, and a white downfeather from one of her wings landed on his nose.

There was, apparently, no better cure for a bout of dissociation than a sneezing fit over Sorceress wing-feathers. 

Rinoa apologized.


	2. Louder Than Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Surgery"

Squall wasn't a demonstrative sort of man. No cards, no flowers, no little gifts. He tended to view all such things as bribes, and songs and poetry as Just Words, easily twisted, entirely meaningless.

No. What mattered, always, was what you did. No excuses, no explanations, just actions. 

And this was why, when Zell opened his eyes in the aftermath of surgery, he was not surprised to see huge bouquets of flowers and bunches of balloons from his friends - but on the other side of the bed, Squall seated in a chair, reading Zell's medchart and studying the readouts.


	3. Did You Just Punch Out Cthulu?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Dragon"

"You're joking, right?" panted Irvine, from rocky cover. "You've gotta be joking."

"He's not," said Squall.

"Hell no, I'm not," said Zell. "I'm going to _flatten_ it."

"It's. A. _Dragon_ ," Irvine emphasized. "You do _not_ punch a dragon's lights out!"

"He does," Squall said.

"I do," Zell agreed firmly. "You don't believe me. Fine." He twisted around, getting into a runner's starting position. "You just watch."

Irvine tugged his hat down over his eyes. "Can't bear to."

Squall snagged Irvine's ponytail, making him watch as Zell broke cover and darted for the seventeen-story flying lizard.

"Holy crap. He _did_ it."


	4. Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Flowers" - Squall does not easily do 'happy'.

Squall knew he was alive because of the scent of grass and flowers. And for a few moments, that was all he needed; there had been no flowers in the time-compressed world, no living things at all. It meant that, somehow, he wasn't _there_ anymore. And that was sufficient good news that for several minutes, he didn't feel the need to push it.

Drops landed on his cheeks and _that_ made him open his eyes, in the expectation of rain (because of course it would rain), but it was Rinoa, bending over him, crying in fear or relief or joy.


	5. Full Moon

It looked almost innocent now, so pale a pink as to be nearly white, full and bright in the nighttime sky. Squall did not look at it. He was still having nightmares of the Lunar Cry. Of seeing what that ‘pink’ really was, the swarming seething mass of life that launched itself from that lunar surface toward Esthar.

Rinoa’s arms slipped around his waist from behind, as she rested her cheek against his back. “It can’t happen again in our lifetimes,” she said, reassuring.

"It will take years to finish the cleanup," Squall replied.

Rinoa hugged him. “But we’ll get it done. That’s what we do, isn’t it?”

Squall didn’t quite smile. How like her, to use _we_. But it wasn’t annoying, as it once had been. She’d earned her place. She’d seen the end of Time and come back, and held her own with nothing but borrowed power and the fear of failure.

She’d come a long way, he reflected. Everyone else had had training. Years of training. Rinoa had just had optimism and fear.

It felt illogical, but possibly the next step was to listen to the optimism. For now.

"Come to bed," Rinoa offered with a smile.


	6. If You Don't Want To Know The Answer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "sometimes, i wonder if he/she fantasizes about you when we're fucking..."

"Do you ever think, when she's with you, that she's thinking about being with me?" asked Zell conversationally.

Squall slanted a Look at him, which Zell cheerfully ignored. "Why would I?" he asked. "If she wants to be with me, she's with me." He frowned. "Or is it that the idea bothers you? That what you're worried about is not holding her attention?"

"Projecting," Zell said, waving a hand. "No reason for _me_ to worry. I'm flexible. Everybody likes flexible. You're the socially cold one who doesn't dance and won't talk about his feelings."

"Agreed," said Squall simply. "Though I'm not so sure your head's as flexible as you seem to think." He got to his feet, brushing off his pants. "There's a simple solution. Ask her."

Zell reached over quickly and grabbed Squall's ankle. "Oh, no. No, no, no. She'll never let us forget it!"

Squall shook his head at Zell. "I think the one that needs to remember is you. Are you getting up or am I dragging you?"

"Fiiiiiine," sighed Zell, rolling to his feet. "There may be payback later."

"You know better," said Squall simply, but a light touch of Zell's arm as he fell into step beside him suggested Squall probably wouldn't mind if he did.

Rinoa was at a computer in their quarters, building a new song mix - probably to dance to later. She smiled as they entered. "Oh - I was going to surprise you with it later," she said. Then paused, taking in that they'd entered together. "Is something wrong?"

Zell opened his mouth, shut it, blushed, and pointed accusingly at Squall. Who shrugged, and said, "It's been raised as a question, that you might take one of us to bed while thinking about the other."

Rinoa's jaw dropped. Then, accurately reading Zell's blush, she chucked a stuffed dog at him. "Don't tell me," she said. "I can guess who. But seriously, why? Thinking about that kind of thing just...I don't want you two fighting."

"We weren't!" said Zell, still red. "It was just a question. I mean, it's not every day..." he gestured, indicating the three of them.

Rinoa looked to Squall, who...didn't smile, but managed to convey in every other line of his body that this was _really_ amusing and the only reason he wasn't laughing was it wouldn't help.

She sighed. One talks too much, the other not at all. Rinoa walked over to Zell, put her hands on each burning cheek, and pulled him in for a kiss and a smile. "I adore you both. Okay? And if I'm with you, I'm thinking about _you_. Or sometimes whether I've taken Angelo for a walk, but that goes equally for both of you. And I'm not comparing and if I ever hear of any comparing going on ever again I will throw things at both of you until you get over it, okay?"

"Ys," managed the somewhat face-squished Zell. He was red enough that her hands probably helped.


	7. Learner's Permit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone showed me a picture of an iceberg as a prompt.

Rinoa perched apologetically on the iceberg's tip, while Squall and Zell hammered pitons into the ice and attached ropes.

"'Bout here?" asked Zell, indicating a spot. Squall nodded.

"Um," said Rinoa, blushing redly.

"Don't worry about it," said Zell with a grin, as the two men descended. "Should've seen Selphie learning."

Squall reached the desired point first, tying his rope into place as he started directing fire spells at particular points. "The Ragnarok appears to be unharmed," he agreed.

"I'm _really, really_ sorry," said Rinoa, sorceress-wings spread wide so she didn't fall off the ice.

"Perhaps next time don't practice ice spells on board ship," Squall remarked, then added, "I've got a visual. Off by about...two feet, I think." He indicated another spot, nearby. "Try there."

"Gotcha," said Zell, and started his own set of fire spells, melting a hole in the ice.

"Um. I could help?" Rinoa offered.

"And you're better at fire spells than ice spells?" asked Squall, in a remarkably non-accusatory tone.

"Er," said Rinoa. "I'll just, um. Wait up here then."

"Time and practice," said Zell cheerfully. "I said, don't sweat it. We'll find a spot where you can do some practicing. Just not the Ragnarok."


	8. Never Dare A Woman With Too Much Lingerie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "underwear"

Rinoa held the little lacy strip up to the light. "You two could get me gifts that _aren't_ underwear, you know," she said hopefully.

Zell flopped onto the couch, grinning over at her. "Yeah, but it's not like guy underwear gets that interesting," he points out.

"Don't go there..." Squall warned quietly.

"You're so sure, are you?" asked Rinoa, and Squall facepalmed, the silent _you went there_ hanging in the air.

Zell slanted a look at Squall, puzzled, then back at Rinoa. "What?"

A few days later, he found out. When Rinoa proudly presented him a really _tiny_ beribboned box.


	9. Creatures of Habit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Who Dressed You?"

Rinoa slotted through racks of clothes, clicking her tongue at the choices. "Why do you dress like that?" she asked. "Both of you, really. This is a hot island. Dark colors and furs and...just, _why_?"

"It's not a uniform," said Squall simply.

"And the Garden kids don't actually go out in the heat much," noted Zell. "I mean _I_ did, to come visit Ma, but why would they? So pants are fine."

Rinoa studied them. "You wear variations on the same thing often enough that 'it's not a uniform' isn't really much of a defense," she notes. "Let me help."


	10. Deadly Garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Cadets are Stupid"

"So...this _isn't_ a terrarium?" asked Rinoa carefully.

"Pretty sure terrariums don't include man eating giant reptiles," said Zell cheerfully - though his hand on Rinoa's shoulder was firm as he pulled her into the shade of a tree as the ground shook with such a lizard's passing.

Squall was studying some shards of bone in reddish mud. "Think we found Cadet Pardue," he said quietly. "This is recent. Past day or so."

Zell sighed, as Rinoa winced. "That's all that's left?" Zell asked.

Squall nodded. "Rex tooth broke the bone. Pretty sure only an arm. Rex is digesting the rest."


	11. Bonds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "privacy"

The main thing about privacy was that there wasn't any. Squall, Rinoa, and Zell shared one suite - okay, a fair sized one, with a very large bed, but still. One suite in the Garden. One bed. The bathroom had been separated into toilet, vanity, and shower because otherwise nobody got _anything_ done in the morning, and there were three desks because Rinoa enjoyed games, Zell enjoyed playing hunt-the-pen and Squall had a minimalist, utilitarian approach that meant nothing was on his desk unless it absolutely had to be.

But more than this, they were in each other's heads. All the time. There was no quiet slipping off for Quality Time in the shower, there were no guilty fantasies that the other two didn't know about and discuss. No alone time, no private time.

If anyone outside their triad had _known_ how thorough the bond was, they probably would have taken bets on how long before Squall lost his mind. As it happened, though, as long as he had outer, physical boundaries maintained (such as his desk), he was actually a lot more flexible internally than most would give him credit for.

On the other hand, Zell had a period of adjustment wherein his outwardly disorganized state developed some sharp boundaries so that the other two could find things. And both the men learned to wear vibrating alarm wristlets rather than use audio alarms, because while they needed to wake up in the morning (albeit at different times) Rinoa was a long way from being a morning person and a bad mood spread through their mental link far too rapidly for comfort.

On the whole, it was probably a miracle they'd managed to remain three discernably different people without anybody getting hospitalized along the way. But they'd never trade it.


	12. Climbing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From a picture of Devil's Tower.

Squall sat down carefully on the ledge, getting a good angle to hammer in another piton and tie the safety rope to it. About fifty feet down, Zell watched him and started climbing once the rope was secured.

Tandem climbing counted as training. One never knew when a contract might require the scaling of a vertical surface, although in Squall's experience, most of those were also glass and steel, not rock, and you weren't allowed to hammer holes into them.

Unscrewing a canteen, Squall downed some of the day's supply and watched Zell climb. Good form, and Zell had very strong fingers, but you looked out for your partner no matter how good they actually were.

"So what's the plan for the trip back down?" asked Zell, once he was near enough not to have to shout.

"Was thinking hang gliding," said Squall. "Ledge to your right."

"Thanks." Zell's questing fingers found the ledge and gripped, pulling himself higher. "Not rappelling?" 

"Did that last trip," Squall pointed out. "This site's got nothing but clear air and thermal updrafts for miles. Could glide ...probably most of the way to Deling."

"Long's we can also glide to a good steakhouse," Zell grunted, getting up another foot. 

He flattened himself against the rock face as a sudden gust of wind struck; Rinoa's wings pumped as she flew parallel to his position. "Hi!" she said cheerily. "Um. I was thinking...picnic at the top? When you get there, I mean. It's got a great view."

"Rinoa," said Squall patiently. "Winds."

"Oh! Right," she replied, and backed away from the cliff face enough that Zell could breathe and focus on climbing again.

" _Thank you_ ," said Zell, fervently, as he ascended. "And I was thinking steak."

Rinoa backed away a bit more, to get an idea how far the two knights had come, and how far they still had to go. "Um. Tell you what," she said. "I'll make sure there's hot steak up there when you get there. I'm not sure the restaurants in Deling will be open by the time we get back. Okay?"

"Sounds good," said Squall, giving Zell a hand up the last bit to the ledge he was on. 

Zell did his best to flop in the small space, catching his breath. "Not into climbing, huh, Rinoa?"

"I think it's probably something my wings handle better," Rinoa answered. "I'll go get water."


	13. Remember the Mask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Costume".

"This is going to be _so much fun_ ," Rinoa said gleefully, picking up the tinsel halo with care. 

"I can't _believe_ you talked me into this," sighed Squall, holding up a rubber devil's mask as if the thing might start sprouting slugs.

"You let her talk you into it because it's a good idea," said Zell, holding up his own devil's mask. "You wanna switch, maybe? I think this one's got a better breathing hole."

Rinoa almost danced over to her wardrobe, looking through the dresses. "Silver. Definitely silver." She took out an ankle-length gown of gray silk, and held it against her. "Would this compliment my wings, do you think?"

Squall was methodically donning the rubber pieces of his devil's costume. Gloves, full head mask. A costume jacket that connected to the mask and gloves. Piece by piece, a complete disguise. Zell looked the results over and then turned to Rinoa. "Yup. That'll work perfectly. Uh. You haven't forgotten we're going to the masquerade on a contract, right?"

For answer, Rinoa smiled, slung the dress over one shoulder like a long towel, and tugged at the back of Squall's costume jacket, the design of which cleverly hid a torso harness and a kind of rugged handle between the shoulderblades. "I'm happy to help you, you know," she said. "But I'm happier that you're not asking _me_ to ...do the things."

Settling the head piece halfway on, so his face was still visible, Squall asked, "Are you clear on the plan?" while Zell got his own costume on. They were close enough in height that the identical costumes made it difficult to tell them apart.

"I go in with Zell," said Rinoa, dutiful and amused. "But before that I fly you up to an upper balcony window. While you get into the target's personal files, Zell and I make sure we're seen by as many guests as we can without making a scene. If you give the word, we get out as fast as we can and then both of us come help you. If you get through the mission without a problem, you give us a _different_ word, we make our way out and I come get you at the balcony I dropped you off at."

Squall nodded. "If the dossier was complete, I shouldn't have any trouble." He gave Rinoa a wry look. "I'll take my time, so you two can enjoy the party as long as possible."

"Expensive drinks, expensive food, good music, good dancing," said Zell, grinning. "To anybody but you, a perfect night out."

Rinoa leaned toward Squall and kissed his cheek. "And you get to sneak through corridors, break into computers, and complete a difficult contract. Knowing we've got your back. Everybody wins."

Squall didn't exactly smile, but the softening of his features suggested his gratitude that they really did understand. Rinoa and Zell were both more social, and enjoyed parties. Squall, if he hadn't been given the contract, would have begged for one.


End file.
